


Prada Garbage Bag

by fragilecapricornpanic



Series: PRE-WRITTEN, Pre-Canon Sibling Encounters [18]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Ben Hargreeves Deserves Better, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Canon Compliant, Extra-Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Ghost Ben Hargreeves, Good Sibling Allison Hargreeves, Homelessness, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, POV Alternating, Parent Allison Hargreeves, Pre-Canon, Protective Allison Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25902682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilecapricornpanic/pseuds/fragilecapricornpanic
Summary: Allison hadn’t seen him since Vanya decided to air their dirty laundry to the world, and hewasfun to bitch with... “Wanna go gossip over some drinks, my treat?” she playfully invited. Okay, fine, maybe she knew trying to lure an alcoholic into spending time with her by promising free drinks wasn’t exactly morally sound - but shereallywanted to talk shit about Vanya. Klaus squinted at her like he was trying to work out if her offer was some kind of trick. “Okay?..” he finally mumbled “Just give me twenty minutes?”
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Ben Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: PRE-WRITTEN, Pre-Canon Sibling Encounters [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869709
Comments: 5
Kudos: 157





	Prada Garbage Bag

Feeling like he would sell his soul for a hit, Klaus was desperately rifling through the Givenchy wallet he’d just pickpocketed. When he was running desperately low on funds, he’d drag himself over to the richer parts of the city. Fancy old ladies were unbelievably susceptible to pickpocketing. He opened the pocket with the cash and let out a disappointed grunt. “Thirty dollars?! That won’t even last me a day...” he whined, huffily shoving the wallet into his backpack.

“At least you can pawn it?” Ben suggested with a sad smile, clearly trying to cheer Klaus up. He hated to enable his brother’s behavior, but his last OD had scared the shit out of him. It was torturous having to watch your brother nearly die, and not to be able to do a single thing. Ben can never even call 911, or alert anyone. This one was _bad_. Ben had been half convinced his brother was already dead by the time the EMT got there. Ben was furious at Klaus for putting him through that, but he also just couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. It was preferable for his brother to not be massively miserable, that just made Ben miserable too. Now Ben was being even more clingy, never giving Klaus a minute to himself except for... certain _activities_.

Sighing, Klaus wiped his curls from his sweat drenched brow. “Whatever, lets go do whatever that thing you wanted me to do was.” He began to saunter out of the alley, trying to remember where the nearest pawn shop was. Ben’s thing could wait until Klaus had sorted out his main priorities. “Eat, Klaus. I wanted you to eat.” Ben deadpanned, always more concerned about Klaus’ calories than he was. Klaus shot him a _eh, whatever_ hand gesture over his shoulder. “Holy shit! Is that...” Klaus suddenly murmured in a trance. “Allison...” Ben completed his sentence. 

Being away from Claire was tearing Allison’s heart out - but she knew she _had_ to do this stupid press junket, she was contactually obliged. Coming back to Argyle was both comforting and distressing. She had rose-tinted memories of sneaking out during the night to get donuts, or sometimes if they were feeling particularly brazen - go bowling. But she also had traumatic memories surrounding their missions. One mission in particular. The mission she, and her remaining siblings, never wanted to think about again. Allison shuddered remembering the last time she saw Ben - or what was left of him... this was why she didn’t come back to this damn city. It was safe to say she needed some retail therapy. Which was why she found herself wandering down 5th Avenue with several shopping bags hanging from her arms. She paused to look at a black Prada bag in the window of a department store. It was gorgeous, she pulled her sunglasses down to see it in its true glory.

A hand yanked her arm and she immediately reverted back into her training, ready to kick some crazy fan’s ass. When she turned to see an alarmed Klaus, she lowered her fists. ”What are you doing here?” Allison inquired distrustingly, shaking his grubby hand off from her hugely expensive coat. She held back a grimace at how terrible he looked. It almost made _her_ feel lousy just looking at him. “Wow, nice to see you too.” Klaus nervously giggled. Allison sighed and rolled her eyes slightly. “I didn’t mean it like that...” she gently assured him, reaching to softly grab his arm but thinking better of it when she noticed how dirty his jacket was. Maybe their usual hug could take a rain check. “What, I’m not fancy enough to look at ugly Prada bags?” he goaded. Allison let out a scandalised gasp as she turned to look back at the bag she’d been checking out. “That is _not_ ugly!” she snapped.

”It looks like a garbage bag.” Ben disgustedly exclaimed as he looked up at it through the window. Klaus flicked his eyes to Ben and let out a wheeze. His dead brother was no fashionista, but it did in fact look like a tiny, overpriced garbage bag. 

Allison huffed, she always hated when Klaus would mumble to himself as a means to attention seek. She’d kind of hoped he would’ve grown out of that by now. “What do you want, Klaus?” she sternly groaned, anticipating him predictably begging for money. To be fair, Allison did literally have money to give away - but she knew exactly what Klaus would spend it on. She didn’t want to effectively be buying her brother drugs.

Throwing a hand to his chest in mock offence, Klaus pouted dramatically. “Uhm, _love_ from my only sister maybe?” he teased, putting Allison to shame and acting emotional much better than she could. Allison crossed her arms irritatedly, she obviously didn’t want to think of Vanya. “You have two sisters.” she murmured, glumly looking down to her extremely fancy Louboutins. Klaus could get so goddamn high just from pawning _one_ of those... he tiredly rubbed at his drippy nose, trying to get his monkey brain to focus on the conversation. It was hard to think about anything other than getting a fix at this current time. He could probably steal something from her purse whilst she wasn’t paying attention. Even her tat was likely worth a lot, especially if he could somehow prove it was Allison Hargreeves’ tat. _Focus, Klaus, focus!_ “Yeah, well maybe tell her that.” Klaus chuckled flatly, frowning at the mention of teeny tiny little Vanya.

Watching Klaus restlessly wiping at his sweat doused face, Allison had to admit she pitied him - even if he caused these difficulties himself. She hadn’t seen him since Vanya decided to air their dirty laundry to the world, and he _was_ fun to bitch with... “Wanna go gossip over some drinks, my treat?” she playfully invited. Okay, fine, maybe she knew trying to lure an alcoholic into spending time with her by promising free drinks wasn’t exactly morally sound - but she _really_ wanted to talk shit about Vanya’s book. It would probably be better than therapy. Klaus squinted at her like he was trying to work out if her offer was some kind of trick. “Okay?...” he finally mumbled “Just give me twenty minutes?”

—

It had been well over twenty minutes, which was hardly surprising for Allison - she’d expected as much. She sat sipping on her Long Island iced tea and flipping through a script her agent had sent her - something about a disabled lawyer. “God,” she groaned “this is terrible.” Just as she was deciding Klaus was going to be a no-show, he stumbled over to her booth, holding a glass filled with what she hoped wasn’t _all_ whiskey. “Whats with the jelly jars?” he drawled, looking down at his trendy repurposed glass. Klaus was looking at it like the Queen of England looking down at a peasant, Allison couldn’t help but let out an undignified snort. He shrugged at her dopily and slumped unceremoniously into the seat opposite to her own. He looked less jittery and gross. Allison sighed wearily, wishing he would finally change. He only seemed to be getting worse as the years went on, not better.

—

“I kinda wish _I_ did it.” Klaus slurred, before making an obnoxious noise with his straw as he finished his drink - that had undoubtedly been solely whiskey. ”Klaus!” Allison yelped as she whacked at his arm scoldingly. “Whaaat?!” he squawked defensively. “All of that sweet royalty money just to bitch to strangers about your family?! I’ve been doing that for free for _years_!” Allison rolled her eyes as she giggled. “That’s basically all meetings are, I have court-ordered bitching about you bitches!” Klaus chuckled, lazily pointing over to Allison. She supposed he had a point. Still, Vanya had crossed a line. An internationally released memoir wasn’t the same as gossiping to a group of people.

Swirling her straw around in her cocktail, Allison wondered what Vanya was doing right now. “Do you think she’s happy now?” she suddenly asked, looking up to Klaus with melancholic eyes. Her brother made a noise of confusion, seeming on the verge of falling asleep anyway. “Now she’s gotten it all off her chest...” she looked back down to stir her drink again “do you think she feels better now?” Allison would be lying if she said she hadn’t been shocked by how bitter and scorned Vanya had been in her book. She knew she didn’t exactly have an ideal childhood, but at least she got to be somewhat normal. None of the Umbrella Academy did. Luther was wasting his life as dad’s soldier, Diego had an intense anger at the world, Allison had built her life around her rumors, Klaus was... Klaus, Five was gone, and Ben was _dead_.

”I don’t give a shit, Allie.” Klaus scoffed with disinterest. “Anyway, when’d’ya last see big boy?” he asked with a mischievous wink. Allison blushed and bashfully looked back down to her cocktail. “I haven’t seen him in yeaaars.” she groaned, desperately wanting to change the subject to anything else. “Well, lucky you.” Klaus huffed as he rubbed at his eyes groggily. Allison raised her eyebrows and leaned in to Klaus, begging him to expand on that. Klaus sighed theatrically. “Last time I saw him, he did his whole super-strength, shoot ya through the air thingie.” he waved his hands around airily, like that would make what he just said less intense.

Allison’s mouth hung open with thinly veiled amusement. “What did you _do?_...” she slowly whispered. He must’ve done something really messed up, Luther had only ever thrown her brothers when they were being particularly annoying assholes. Or maybe he was just being melodramatic in his description. Neither option would be surprising. Klaus hastily looked off to his side to giggle at thin air. “Long story.” Klaus mumbled, waving the conversation off. Allison wanted to rumor it out of him, but she felt maybe it would be better to just stop talking about Luther altogether. Klaus always teased her excessively about her childhood crush.

—

”Are you sure you don’t want a ride home?” Allison questioned worriedly, gesturing to the cab behind her with her head. Klaus weirdly hissed over his shoulder at nothing. “I’ll pay?” Allison offered, feeling guilty over what she was implying. Allison was tentative to leave him on the street, he was swaying all over the place - he had never been great at hand to hand combat anyway, but definitely not in this state. She had mostly sobered up by now, she was confident in her ability to make the decision for him. “I heard a rumor...” the air around Allison vibrated, as her words swam into his ears like a swarm of bees “...that you let me take you home.” she gave her best angelic smile. Her brothers could usually figure out when they’d been rumored, they’d grown so used to it. Hopefully Klaus was too out of it to tell. The bright white faded from her brother’s eyes as he unsteadily entered into their cab. “32 Johnson Avenue.” he absently instructed the driver as he shuffled into his seat. Allison breathed out with relief, glad Klaus wasn’t going to be left alone in this level of intoxication. Maybe she shouldn’t have offered free drinks to an alcoholic with no self-control...

—

“I know what you did, asshole.” Klaus grumpily slurred as the cab neared his address. Allison gave him a remorseful smirk. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to make sure you got home safe and I knew you wouldn’t agree.” she told him apologetically, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. Anything could’ve happened to him, it was for his own good. He just needed some persuasion, that was all. “How did you know?” Allison inquired, honestly kind of taken aback. How _did_ he know? He could barely speak, surely he couldn’t have worked it out.

“Oh... a terribly annoyin’, deceased little birdie.” Klaus confessed through gritted teeth, turning to violently glare at a smugly smiling Ben. He was getting way too much joy out of Klaus’ humiliation, such a petty little ghost. 

Allison rolled her eyes at his attention seeking, she knew he wouldn’t be able to conjure any ghosts in his current condition. “Maybe this kind of shit is why Vanya read you to filth in her book.” Klaus hissed over at her. Allison ground her teeth in anger, sensitive about the book. She already blamed herself intensely for how she’d behaved towards Vanya. Allison wasn’t even sure what reading to filth meant, but she could make an easy assumption. She was about to snap back at him when she saw his embarrassed expression as they pulled to a stop at his address. Allison quickly turned to look over her shoulder out of the window. _Oh_.

“Klaus, I’m so sorry I- I shouldn’t have rum-“ she spluttered out, panicking with regret. “Bye, Number Three.” he passive aggressively yelled as he scurried out of the cab and slammed the door. All she could do was guiltily look on as he swayingly marched up the steps of the homeless shelter, talking angrily to thin air. Allison groaned to herself, wishing she’d just respected someone’s autonomy for once in her life. Rumors were just so overwhelmingly tempting; they were almost impossible to resist. When will she learn that she can’t take her rumors back?


End file.
